Saturday, December 24, 2011

Christmas Eve

My head is twice as big as Adam's in this picture and it's sort of a weird picture anyway but it's a picture of me with my eyes open and that, my friends, does not happen every day.

Adam and I are ying and yang.  To my early bird, he's last minute.  It mostly works pretty well.  We tolerate each others' differences with bemused head shaking.

But sometimes Adam's time table turns out to be wonderful.

On Christmas Eve, thanks to my time table, we were completely ready for Christmas.  We were enjoying an idle day playing games and reading and answering Mark's question, "When are we opening presents?" over and over.

Adam said, "I wanted to buy you clothes but I didn't."

I was OK with that.  There were plenty of presents under the tree with my name on them.

Then he said, "I know it's crazy but do you want to go  Coldwater Creek has everything on sale for 40% off."

He named two things I love:  Coldwater Creek and a sale.

But shopping on Christmas Eve?

Then I thought, why not?  Adam has a way of making everything enjoyable.  I was in.

We drove to the store.  We found a close parking spot, and quickly.  We walked into Coldwater Creek.  There was one other shopper there.  And two employees.  And a big sale.  We wandered around the quiet and empty store.  I found three things I liked.  I tried them on.  I liked them more.  I asked Adam which I should get.  Adam said, "Pick two."

I said, "Are you sure?  There were a lot of gifts for me already under the tree."

He smiled.  I tried them all on again.  Adam said, "You'd better get all three."

I said, "Really?  Are you serious?"  But I knew he was serious.  Because he's my Adam.  The very best sort of Adam.

While we were walking back to our van, we marveled at the ease of our shopping trip.  Leaving the parking lot, we saw a rainbow striped truck.  Adam said it reminded him of Fruit Stripe gum.  That reminded me of Tiger Tails.  I asked Adam if he remembered Tiger Tails...they're like Twinkies but with stripes and coconut?  I told him I hadn't had one for a long long time and I wondered if they were as good as I remembered.   He abruptly turned into the Walmart parking lot.  "What are you doing?" I asked, like he'd lost his mind.  I don't darken the door of Walmart, ever.  And certainly not on Christmas Eve.

Adam said, "Now you've given me a challenge.  I'm going to find them for you."

He told me I could stay in the van and he promised to abort the mission if it was too crazy inside.  I  called after him, "You don't have to do this!"

But it was futile.

He was gone.

I sat in the van and watched people walk into and out of Walmart.  On Christmas Eve.  I was listening to Christmas music on the radio.  I heard, "Unto us, a Son is given..."

And I thought about the words and what they mean to me.

I thought about the words and what they meant to the people I saw walking into and out of Walmart.

A Son was given to the young woman with hoop earrings bigger than bracelets and dark make-up,  frantically smoking before she walked into the store.

A Son was given for the teenage girl with inky black dyed hair, walking out of the store in pajamas and fuzzy pink slippers.

A Son was given to the bored looking employee, picking up garbage in the parking lot.

A Son was given to the lost looking man who wandered out of the store.

A Son was given to the dad, juggling a McDonald's bag full of food and trying to keep his little boys from running into the street.

A Son was given to all of us.

And His name shall be called, Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.

I felt warm and Christmasy inside.  And I felt a bond to the potpourri of Walmart shoppers.  We were all recipients of the best gift ever.

Adam emerged from the store.  He couldn't find Tiger Tails (I've since learned Hostess no longer makes them!  The humanity!).  So he bought me a maple bar, because he knows I love maple bars.  Considering the stacks of treats at home, I needed a maple bar like I needed a hole in my head.

(But that didn't stop me from eating it.)


Tabor said...

You always make me cry. I think maple bars are like Dr. Pepper in that they are an inherited taste. Or maybe they are just so good that everybody in our family likes them.

Gwilliam Fam said...

Love reading your blog Thelma. Thank you!


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